


Partnership

by spocksevilgodmother



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloodbending (Avatar), F/M, but all the blood stays in people's bodies, earth kingdom and fire nation reversal, zutara exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocksevilgodmother/pseuds/spocksevilgodmother
Summary: Prince Zuko arrives in the Southern Water Tribe hoping to strike up a military alliance through an arranged marriage. Though Katara and Zuko share a spark, there are others who resent a union between a firebender and a waterbender....





	1. In Which Watchful Eyes are Watching

**Author's Note:**

  * For [claireandelide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/claireandelide/gifts).



> This is an arranged marriage AU. Katara (and her companions) are now about seventeen (the same age as Zuko, thereabouts), for personal squick reasons. The Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Water Tribes have rotated roles: the Earth Kingdom is now the imperialist invader, the Fire Nation is weak and has been decimated by their power, and the Water Tribes are threatened but still resisting the Earth Kingdom's violence. Sokka is Katara's younger brother, for no reason.
> 
> Katara has five fellow warriors who are OCs: Olli, Kidad, Nawala, Meera, and Salme. Hopefully that makes this less confusing.

Nawala didn’t bother to whisper. “I hear he’s the first cousin of Fire Lord Lu Ten himself.” 

The young warriors of the Southern Water Tribe tittered as they watched one of their own forge into the waters of diplomacy for the first time. 

“Katara is so beautiful,” Olli, the youngest, sighed, looking up to the high table. Chief Hakoda, Kya, and some of the village elders sat alongside Katara herself, and the Fire Nation prince who had come knocking on their door, seeking an alliance. 

“She is,” Meera agreed. “And Prince Zuko’s easy on the eyes, as well. I wouldn’t say no if either of them knocked on my door tonight.”

Nawala took Meera’s hand. “I think you would!” She held an angry gaze for a moment, then couldn’t contain her laughter and brought Meera’s hand to her lips. 

“Both of you, hush!” Salme waved a hand. “I want to hear what they’re saying!”

As one, the warriors fell silent, keeping their eyes on their food and their ears turned toward the front of the room. Prince Zuko, for his part, was doing his very best to stomach the plate of steaming sea prunes before him while keeping polite company with his possible bride. 

“The dome is particularly beautiful,” he said. As he spoke, he looked upwards, and yet it seemed impossible that he might accidentally spill. “I had no idea that construction was such an important part of Water Tribe culture.”

“Absolutely,” Katara said, her voice cheerful, as it always was when she spoke about her people. “Traditionally, men have used their waterbending skills to hunt or create beautiful architecture, while women choose either the life of a warrior or a healer. Times are changing.”

“And which are you?” Zuko smiled slightly, crinkling the livid red scar around his left eye.

Katara straightened. Her eyes leaped to her sisters-in-arms; Zuko’s followed. 

Olli squeaked and ducked her head. “He’s looking at us!”

Meera waved back cheekily, but Nawala, Salme, and Kidad merely returned Zuko’s gaze with a cool stare. Katara’s mouth puckered a little, but she kept her voice light.

“I’m a warrior, along with the other girls my age,” she said, her voice proud. “Trained by the very best in our tribe. You met with Sifu Hama earlier, didn’t you?”

“I’m sure I did,” Zuko said, turning to face the gray-haired woman seated at the end of the table. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Hama offered a saccharine smile in return, but the girls winced. They knew too well the capricious nature of their tutor—she wore a smile, but she hated the Fire Nation more than she hated the Earth Kingdom.

“Couldn’t she lighten up?” Kidad sighed. “She acts like we won’t need any help fighting the Earth Kingdom someday. It makes sense for the tribes to be stronger.”

“She has her reasons,” Salme counseled. “Besides, that’s not what matters to me most. Look at Katara.”

The warriors paused, glancing at their friend, still in the throes of conversation with Zuko. She looked as though she were fresh from morning exercises: her cheeks flushed pink and wisps of her hair flew from her head—not from exertion, but from the nervous hand that crept up to smooth her scalp when she thought no one was looking. 

“Aw,” Meera said fondly. “She likes him.”

Nawala shrugged. “She doesn’t love him. She doesn’t even know him.”

“That’s the way with arranged marriages,” Meera replied. “She knows her rank as the chief’s daughter, and we all know she’d do anything to protect the tribe.”

“She’ll be so sad when she finds out what Hama said,” Olli said sadly, pushing her food around half-heartedly. 

Kidad glanced around, perplexed. “What did Hama say?”

“You weren’t there.” Salme glanced at their teacher, but Hama seemed unaware of their discussion. “We were talking about the program next year. Hama mentioned that I might make captain—”

“But Katara wants captain!” Kidad exclaimed. “She’s worked so hard.”

“That’s just it, though. Hama says she won’t teach Katara if she marries into the Fire Nation.”

Meera cursed and stuffed a bun in her mouth. “It isn’t fair. That Prince Zuko approached  _ us _ . If this happens, he will marry into the Water Tribe, not the other way around.”

“You know Hama,” Nawala sighed, “She doesn’t care about all of that.”

The girls sat in silence for some time, catching snatches of Katara and Zuko’s conversation when they could.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“One—a younger sister, Azula. She’s a spitfire, though I’m afraid she’s taken my father’s death very hard.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine losing my parents. Will she be accompanying Fire Lord Lu Ten when he brings the treaty next week?”

“She will, as far as I know.”

“Perhaps we can make her feel at home here. Wait, wait—what’s so funny?”

“I just don’t know if you’d be saying the same thing if you knew her. But maybe you’re right. Azula admires power, and I’m sure she would respect a fellow warrior like yourself.”

Katara beamed at Zuko, whose smile, though small, seemed genuine. Olli sighed again, pushing her half-filled bowl across the table.

“I don’t even want to think about it. Katara loves waterbending. She loves training with us. And she’s so loyal, she’d give all that up in a second to protect us.”

“Don’t you just hate her?” Meera said, but her voice was sad.

Before anyone else could speak, Katara’s laugh pealed across the room, high and sweet. Olli stood up abruptly, running from the room before her friend could see the expression on her face. If Katara saw, she made no sign.

Unperturbed, Meera grabbed Olli’s bowl and slurped the remaining contents down, loudly. Her remaining sisters-in-arms gave her pointed looks.

“What?”

Nawala simply took Meera’s hand and sighed.


	2. In Which Katara Ponders

Katara arrived as a speck within the sunlight, waiting a moment on the peak of a snowbank before jogging down and seamlessly falling in step with the other trainees’ morning run. The other girls all peered at Katara curiously, but the chief’s daughter kept her chin high and face forward. 

She was getting married.

Well, she was  _ probably _ getting married. 

That is, she  _ might _ get married.

The truth was, she didn’t know. In the four days since the prince’s welcome banquet, Katara had had several chaperoned interactions with her proposed husband. He seemed nice. Urgent. Tragic. And, unfortunately, irrelevant.

Hama walked out of the training gymnasium, checking on her students’ progress. Katara waved; Hama beamed back. At least training was simple. Katara was a good student, and her hard work paid off. Smooth as ice.

Katara knew she should be grateful. She let her legs fall harder on the ground than she needed to, letting the impact shudder up through her body. A minor penance. If she were an Earth Kingdom girl, her parents wouldn’t care about silly things like meeting one’s intended before the wedding day. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

Yet it wasn’t the point. The point was that someday the Earth Kingdom would turn its flint gaze upon the Southern Water Tribe, and when that happened, there was no telling what kind of damage might occur. Zuko had mentioned the ruins of his homeland—thousands dead, buildings and books fed to house fires, mass incarceration for remaining firebenders. Katara’s heart throbbed when she thought of those average people suffering, but it hardened with rage when she considered the same happening among her own people.

To stay that future, Katara didn’t need Zuko’s charm or friendliness. She needed his cousin’s promises. Those wouldn’t come for days yet, if ever.

Hama clapped her hands. “Enough, girls! It’s time to practice forms.”

Still in step, the six warriors jogged to the center of the training field, each urging a tendril of water from the canteens at their waists. Hama had taught them the eight phases when they were little girls, but they returned to the basics at the beginning of each lesson, mirroring the moon with their bodies. 

“Meera, keep your arms straight!” Hama strolled among the warriors, her gentle admonitions still a sharp bite against their pride. “Higher, Katara, you’re sagging.”

Katara realized her mistake a moment too late, the water in front of her drooping like a punctured tiger seal’s bladder. She tightened her form, but she still regretted the error. 

“Pair up, please,” Hama said, satisfied with her trainees’ morning routine. “Today we’re going to practice our water cloaks.”

It was a simple enough task. Drawing from the moats around her, Katara armored her body with water and prepared to unleash her best. In fact, she didn’t have to. Nawala and Olli went down with one swing. Kidad charged at Katara, her own tentacles waving, but Katara wrested control of the water and sent the other girl into the moat. Salme and Meera, preoccupied with each other, didn’t have time to defend against Katara’s lashes. 

“It’s not fair!” Olli sighed. “She’s so much better than us.”

“She’s practiced more than you,” Hama chided. “Up! Again. I want to see strong cloaks.”

Katara gave herself a moment to breathe. She wasn’t unaccustomed to needing to assist with remedial work for the others, but it could be boring.

“You look like you could use a more challenging partner.”

Katara gasped and turned, finding herself face-to-face with Zuko. “How long have you been watching?” she demanded.

“Only a few minutes,” Zuko replied. “You’re a skilled fighter.”

“Thank you. I’ve been training for most of my life.”

“Me too.” A small smile lit his face. “Care for a new opponent?”

Did she. 

“Sifu Hama,” Katara said. “I’ll be a few minutes.”

Hama nodded, though she didn’t look pleased. So much of Katara’s schedule was eaten up by official duties—she’d have to make it up later.

“This way,” Katara urged Zuko. “The field where the boys train isn’t being used right now.”

“I haven’t seen any male waterbenders since I got here,” Zuko observed.

“There are a few around,” Katara said. “But you’re right. Most of them are boating on a hunting journey right now. They’re due to be back before Fire Lord Lu Ten’s arrival.”

“Ah.”

Katara took her starting pose as Zuko did the same. They paused—too long. Katara held eye contact for a moment, but suddenly had to dip her head to cover a laugh. She was glad to see him also struggling not to laugh.

“It’s a little awkward, isn’t it?” Zuko said.

Katara nodded, but straightened. “Guests shoot first.”

Zuko nodded once, then raised his arms. With no apparent effort, he punched forward, releasing controlled bursts of fire at Katara as he walked toward her. Katara responded in kind. She slashed her arms, the water cutting through the flames before they got close to her body.

Katara had to stop him while she was ahead. Fire had strength, yes, but water had the advantage of brute force. With a shout, Katara pushed a wall of water forward, knocking Zuko backwards to the ground. She waited a moment to let the waves recede, then twisted her fingers abruptly, freezing Zuko wear he stood. She thought she caught a glimpse of something on his face—was he impressed?—but in the next instant Zuko was on his feet again, arms raised, still wet.

Then, Katara was lost in the battle. He teased her with fire daggers; she responded with an ice shield. Zuko whipped fire around them, driving Katara to the ground. With a shout, she pushed him upwards on a high ice column. He moved, she moved. She shivered each time the flames flew close enough to singe the hair on arms and face, and yet she relished in it, too. It had been a long time since she’d had a real challenge. 

Zuko ran forward, eyes narrowed. Katara threw a water whip at his feet, but it was too late—he hurtled through the air and into her, sending them both sprawling in the snow. 

Katara shook herself from the pain and opened her eyes. Zuko looked down at her, close. Too close for decency, but his palms were warm against her arms even though they were bare in the cold.

“Does this mean I win?” Zuko asked, sitting back, a satisfied grin on his face.

Katara laughed. “This time, my prince.” 

She took a moment to look at him. He was talented—if given a command and some time, he could be a great warrior. He could be a general. Together, Katara couldn’t imagine the possibilities. How could the Earth Kingdom stand against the powers of fire and water combined?

“You’re staring,” Zuko commented.

“Did you ever want to be the Fire Lord?” Katara blurted.

Zuko narrowed his eyebrows, but shrugged. “I’ve wondered what it would be like,” he said. “But for that to happen… I never wanted to lose my uncle. He was more a father to me than my own father was. I don’t want to see my cousin lost, either.”

Katara stood helping Zuko to his feet. She paused a moment, refreezing the melting spots on the training ground. 

Zuko didn’t take his eyes from her. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering.”

“If this is a test of loyalty, I have to admit that I am next in line for the throne. It could make our future complicated.”

“That’s okay.” Katara bumped his shoulder with her own. “I don’t mind complicated.”

A shrill voice slapped both the smiles from their faces. “KATARA! Back here, now!”

Katara flinched at Hama’s harsh tone. Even from across the training field, she could see the white fury in her trainer’s eyes. 

“Oops,” she said. “It looks like I have an apology to make.”

“Do you want me to come?” Zuko asked, worried. “I shouldn’t have distracted you.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m her favorite student—she’ll forgive me. Go have lunch with Sokka. I’ll catch up with you for dinner tonight.”

Zuko nodded, then turned his back. Katara watched him leave. She had been avoiding her friends the last few days. She wasn’t sure she could stand their ribbing and teasing when her relationship with Zuko felt so tenuous already. Yet as she turned to face Hama, still sweaty from the fight, Katara felt Zuko’s warm palms on her arms, igniting something she wanted to keep. 

“Go help the other girls,” Hama said gruffly. 

“Yes, Sifu Hama,” Katara said, startled, but not surprised. It had been discourteous of her to leave, she supposed. Still, she touched her fingers to her arm as she ran.


	3. In Which Zuko Hopes

Somehow, Zuko felt more anxious after the safe arrival of his cousin and sister. It should have been the opposite: he should have feared for their subjection to the cruelties of the Earth Kingdom and been relieved when they survived. Yet as he faced them for the first time in a month, he could barely breathe.

“How was your journey, Fire Lord?” Zuko asked, his gruff voice barely above a whisper.

“Good, cousin, good.” Lu Ten stood straight and tall, with all the dignity of his status on his shoulders. “We had much luck with the Northern Water Tribe. I am hopeful that we will be able to come to an agreement eventually.”

“Eventually?” Zuko raised an eyebrow. 

“They are not convinced a match would serve their interests well,” Lu Ten looked slightly above Zuko’s head, and not at Azula. Zuko contemplated his younger sister for a moment. Her spark seemed to die with their father, and she tended to vacillate between bitterness and despondency without warning.

Azula let her black gaze land on the icy floor, her mouth twisted in silence. Zuko never thought he’d miss the bite of her words, and yet without them, she seemed more childlike. She was a girl with a past too big for her body—if he thought she would let him, he would have let his hand rest on her shoulder. 

Azula flinched as the corner of Lu Ten’s cloak brushed her ankle.

“Tell me about your progress here,” Lu Ten asked. “Do you think the match possible?”

“I do.” Zuko bit his lip. Azula—at least the old Azula—would cackle if she could see the hope that washed over his heart every time he thought about Katara. It wasn’t love, not yet. Zuko still considered Katara’s smile a solid foundation for their relationship.

“Is that all?”

“I haven’t had an opportunity to observe the hunting parties, but the warriors who train under Master Hama’s direction are impressive.”

Azula scoffed at this, but made no further comment.

“Can I trust you to behave yourself during the banquet?” Lu Ten asked, keeping a steady gaze on Azula. “This is important for all of us.”

“You needn’t worry about me, cousin,” Azula snapped. “I know my place.”

Lu Ten clapped a hand on Zuko’s shoulder—even though he was a handful of years older, the gesture felt fatherly. Zuko wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Whatever happens, thank you for your loyalty,” Lu Ten said. “I’m grateful.”

Zuko didn’t know why, but he couldn’t quite meet his cousins eyes. He nodded, and turned to dress for dinner. 

~

The banquet was a success. For all the good food and kind words Zuko had received over the last few weeks, he had to admit that the Southern Water Tribe had outdone themselves on this night. Now, as the fires burned low, only Katara’s father and the warriors remained.

Chief Hakoda and Fire Lord Lu Ten were the kind of men who could respect each other, which was a relief to everyone at the table. Zuko released the bunches in his shoulders as Lu Ten sank into conversation with the village elders, and Azula grudgingly exchanged words with Hama. 

Zuko turned to Katara. She smiled, but she looked tired. Anxious, maybe. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the weeks you spent with us, Prince Zuko.”

He inclined his head slightly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt hope, Katara. I’m grateful.”

Katara blushed, but didn’t break eye contact. For a moment, Zuko thought she was going to say something else—something soft that he could tuck next to his heart—but she looked behind him and her eyes widened. 

Instantly, Katara was up on her feet, her arms extended in perfect form. Zuko curled his fingers around a flame, turning to join her against whatever threat she saw. Azula stood behind Lu Ten, a silver knife raised in her hand. A spout of water blasted from Katara’s canteen and froze around Azula’s arm. Azula grabbed the knife with her other hand. 

“Azula!” Zuko cried out, furious. 

“It’s not her!” Katara replied. “Hama, let her go!”

Zuko turned to the old woman, and time slowed down. In a moment’s study, he could see that she too was bending, her fingers contorting in front of her.  _ Bloodbending _ . It was a whispered art—something the fire sages whispered in their counsels, something that mothers warned their children about. 

_ “Don’t be ridiculous,” Zuko heard his mother’s voice in his mind. “It’s just a made-up story.” _

Yet here it was, before his eyes. Azula would never hold a knife so clumsily. Someone else was doing that for her.

Where Zuko was frozen, Katara sweated against the strain of holding back Hama. Hakoda pulled Lu Ten from under Azula’s arms, but Azula wobbled forward, like a broken doll. Zuko couldn’t recognize the expression on her face—if he didn’t see her chest rise, he might have thought she was dead.

“Let her go, Hama!” Katara shouted.

Hama furrowed her brow. “Well, if I can’t have him,” she said, almost to herself.

Azula turned the knife towards her own chest and swung down.

“No!” Zuko heard Katara’s voice mix with Lu Ten’s, and his chest restricted as Katara dove onto Azula’s body, tumbling flat onto the ice. Zuko turned towards Hama, anger crisping under his skin.

“How dare you attack her!” he shouted. 

Hama hissed, “Kill me, Prince Zuko! Death is all the Fire Nation is good for!”

Zuko gritted his teeth and sent a fireball in her direction—it never hit. From the right, a spray of water extinguished the fire before it could touch Hama’s skin. Hama’s five prized students ran towards her, and Zuko’s heart sank. Even if Azula were in top shape, he and his fellow firebenders weren’t strong enough to compete with the combined forces of the Southern Water Tribe. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t go down without a fight, and he raised his arms, prepared to fight.

The next blow never fell.

As one, Nawala, Olli, and Salme melted ice from the floor beneath them, spinning it like a cyclone, tighter and tighter around Hama, finally allowing it to spin into ice. Meera and Kidad jumped behind the old woman, lowering her frozen body to the floor gently, but firmly. 

“Why?” Olli cried, looking at her mentor in horror. 

“Don’t be a bubblehead,” Meera scoffed. “Firebenders killed her family a long time ago. She’s just a bitter old woman.”

“Meera, she’s our teacher!” Nawala sounded affronted. 

Slowly, Zuko relaxed his arms, realizing all at once that there was no battle to fight—the warriors had it under their control. Well, almost.

Zuko spun on his heel, running to where Azula and Katara lay sprawled on the floor. “Azula, Katara. Talk to me.”

Katara moaned, and Zuko dropped to his knees, gently pulling her into a sitting position. He flipped her hands over, looking for cuts or burns. 

“I’m fine,” Katara said. “I’m fine.”

“You didn’t hit your head?” Zuko asked dubiously, running a hand down her cheek. 

“No. I’m okay.” Her eyes dropped to the silver knife on the floor. It was clean.

“Azula.” Lu Ten already had the young soldier in his arms, supporting her back as she remembered how to move her arms, her eyes, her mouth.

“That witch!” Azula shouted, with some of the ferocity that Zuko remembered.

“Hold still,” he admonished. Lu Ten continued holding his cousin as Zuko made his rounds, checking her hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. “It looks like a nasty bump to the head. You might want to lay down.”

“Here, let me.” Katara brushed a handful of water from the floor and pressed it to the egg Lu Ten indicated on Azula’s head. The water glowed white for a moment. Azula sighed as the pain faded, then gave Katara a hard look.

“You’re very strong,” she observed. “You held my arm back for minutes.”

Katara narrowed her eyes slightly. “You’re welcome, Princess.”

Azula scowled. Lu Ten shook his head a little bit, and guided his younger cousin to her feet. Across the room, they saw the warriors carry their master away, under Chief Hakoda’s watchful eye. Zuko tried to catch Katara’s eye— _ I’m so glad you’re okay,  _ he thought—but Katara had her own duty. She faced the Fire Lord.

“I can only apologize,” Katara said. “My friends warned me that Hama was angry, but I never expected to threaten your lives. It was a grave error.”

Lu Ten straightened, meeting Katara’s gaze with cool, amber eyes. Zuko held his breath. If it were his father, his grandfather, this would mean war. This would mean the end. Then Lu Ten’s expression softened—he was his father’s son. “You can’t account for every person’s beliefs,” he said. “As it was, I can only thank you for saving my cousin’s life. You and your comrades are very talented.”

Katara smiled at him. Lu Ten nodded kindly, but then turned to Zuko. “I should see Azula gets some rest. I leave it to you to decide whether we will fight alongside these warriors in the future.”

Zuko turned to Katara, waiting for his cousin to leave. This was a conversation he wanted to have alone. “Is there somewhere we could go to talk?”

Katara led him to the city walls. They climbed to the top, where they had a clear view of the dark ocean underneath the full moon. They sat looking outwards. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Zuko admitted. 

“Me neither,” Katara replied. 

Zuko tapped his fingers on his knee. “I like you, Katara. I respect you. I would build something with you, if you’d have me.”

Katara threw a pebble into a snowdrift. “I trust you, Zuko. I do. And yet—”

“We’re too different?” Zuko tried to soften the edge to his voice, but failed.

“No! No.” Katara closed her eyes, trying to think of the right words. “It’s just… if you had asked me this question yesterday, accepting would have meant the end of my studies with Hama. She was going to refuse to teach me. But even if she didn’t, I’d still be taking on a wife’s responsibilities. Marrying me will still mean losing the warrior you admire.”

“Can I tell you something?” Zuko asked, suddenly.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think my uncle is dead.”

“General Iroh? I thought his army was decimated.” Katara flinched a little bit as she realized how the words sounded.

“It was,” Zuko said. “But before he left, he told me something. He said that no matter how good his troops were, the Earth Kingdom won’t collapse until the return of the Avatar.” He paused, but Katara kept her eyes glued to him. “I’ve wondered if his army fell, not because of his bad leadership, but because he wasn’t there.”

“You think that he left to find the Avatar.” Katara looked hesitant. “Do you really think he’s out there?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko admitted. “But I think I would feel safer if I looked for my uncle with a warrior at my side. That is, with my  _ wife  _ at my side.”

He leaned back on his arms, stretching his body and letting his anxiety run down his elbows. Katara set her hand on top of his.

“We should tell our families that they have a wedding to plan,” she said. 

“We should,” Zuko agreed. “But it can wait.” 

They sat there, hand-in-hand, and watched the moon glow softly. Behind them, a shaft of light pierced the night sky. It was a promise of revival, a beacon of change. Something very old returned with the power to change the world. That, too, would have to wait.


End file.
